


War

by TuppingLiberty



Series: TLIB FFC 2021- original works [27]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Soldiers, War Themes, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29813115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuppingLiberty/pseuds/TuppingLiberty
Summary: FFC Day 27: WarFeaturing two brothers in arms just trying to survive.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: TLIB FFC 2021- original works [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138628
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13
Collections: February Ficlet Challenge 2021: Apocalypse No





	War

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by The Decemberists "The Soldiering Life" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Pd_nzOvgis  
> We laid on the mattress and tumbled to sleep  
> Our eyes aligned, swaddled in our civvies  
> Cradled in our dungarees
> 
> But you, my brother in arms  
> I'd rather I'd lose my limbs  
> Than let you come to harm
> 
> But you, my bombazine doll  
> The bullets may singe your skin  
> And the mortars may fall
> 
> But I, I never felt so much life  
> Than tonight, huddled in the trenches  
> Gazing on the battle field  
> Our rifles blaze away, we blaze away  
> We blaze away, we blaze away

From the look the madam of the establishment gives them, she knows exactly why they’re asking for a room, knows exactly why Stef had slipped her the extra coin to say they’d taken two ladies up, should anyone ask. 

Nico couldn’t give a flying fuck, honestly. Need is practically vibrating under his skin. If Stef hadn’t been there, standing right by him, just as needy, Nico might think he’s experiencing the after effects of the mortars. 

“Combat stress,” the army calls it. The name makes Nico want to curse, to spit on the ground, but then Stef’s using the key to open up their room for the night, just for the two of them, their room for the entire leave if that’s what they want to do. It’s dingy, and cold, but it’s private, and at least it’s  _ dry. _ Nothing like the godforsaken swamps of the trenches. 

Stef pulls him inside, pushes him up against the door, devouring his mouth. Nico’s heart leaps in his throat, knowing that this first round is going to be intense. 

How could it be anything less? 

Stef had kissed Nico just like this the first time, as if he wanted to do it hard and fast so that when Nico protested, as Stef had been sure he would, he’d have gotten it out of his system at least. 

And Nico, well. Nico hadn’t been expecting it, that night when they’d been on lookout, just the two of them, huddled against the mud wall, them and a pair of Germans on the other side, making sure no one would make an attempt at no man’s land. 

And maybe it had been because life seems so fucking pointless, but Stef’s lips had felt amazing on his, and so they had again, two weeks later, on leave, when Stef had let Nico fuck him in a whorehouse room like this one. 

Nico can’t seem to stop himself from sinking into Stef, no matter what the world says about it. 

He’s heard rumors, heard that maybe Paris would be welcoming, if not with open arms, than at least without pitchforks and sexual perversion laws. 

Because the thing about it is, Nico’s no longer sure he wants to part ways with Stef after this whole thing is done. 

Nico had signed up just shy of 16, fudging his papers, not that the war office back home had been exacting. He’d wanted a piece of the action. Now he’s almost 19, and the only stable, positive thing he’s had in his life this entire time is Stef. 

And then Stef drops to his knees in front of him, and Nico can no longer think about the war. 

Later, much later, when their bodies are sated and they’ve redressed in their civvies to protect against the cold night air, Nico runs his hand over Stef’s back. Stef’s on his stomach, how he’s wont to sleep if you give him a flat surface, but his brother in arms isn’t asleep just yet. His warm brown eyes are staring up at Nico, his cheeks flushed, his entire body languid. 

He doesn’t know why he murmurs it, but he does. 

“Would...you come to Paris with me, if we make it out of this?” 

Stef stiffens, searching out Nico’s eyes. “You- you don’t know what that life is like, Nico. Being... _ with _ me. Pursuing this. I don’t have a choice,  _ you _ do. You could go back to Yorkshire, find some nice skirt, get married.” 

“I want to choose you, though-” 

“It’s not, I mean, it’s  _ illegal.”  _

“You think I give a fuck about legalities when I can  _ legally _ die choking to death on my own blood, get blasted apart, or hey, get sent over the top. I  _ choose you. _ ” 

“Nicky…” 

Nico slips in beside Stef, pulling the blankets - probably flea infested, but fuck everything - up to their chins as he throws his arm over Stef’s back. It brings him close enough to press a kiss to his lips, so he does, trying to show reassurance even if Stef’s still reluctant. 

Stef’s eyes close, tears caught in his long eyelashes. “Take me to Paris, then,” he whispers, his voice devoid of emotion. 

He doesn’t believe it’ll happen, and suddenly, suddenly Nico is filled with a renewed sense of surety. 

He  _ will _ get them through this war, and they  _ will _ go to Paris, and they  _ will _ be together. For as long as God grants it. 

“Sleep,” Nico murmurs, pressing a kiss to Stef’s forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> AND THEY DO. ONLY HAPPILY EVER AFTERS HERE. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
